Lex Briscuso

Glazer's first feature film in ten years is a sick, bleak, and absolutely vital reimagining of the Holocaust drama, one that finds a new way — and possibly a more effective way — to put an important spotlight on the face of atrocities.

The film is utterly singular to American design—as is the policing system in question—and a masterclass in effective documentary work that exists solely to deliver an impalpable truth.

Ree’s magnificent documentary takes its audience not only through the tragic elements of Mats’ life—the diagnosis of his illness, his decline, his untimely death—but the good parts, too, through effective testimony and powerful archival images, audio and video.

Veni Vidi Vici is like a piercing scream into the void, daring you to truly process what it’s telling you for fear you might fall victim to its apathy next.

This is such a bold and genuine movie, one that highlights the concepts of found family, maternal connections and doing what makes you happy alongside all of its unrestrained and risque fun.

In Gutierrez’s vivid and moving film, Kahlo is in no less than full, glorious view.

The Outwaters is an immersive hellmouth waiting to, quite literally, swallow us up and spit us back out into the landscape more horrified of what the universe is capable of than ever before — and trust me, you don't stand a chance against what it has in store for you.

Killers of the Flower Moon is a fast, fierce, and unapologetic gut punch that centers the horrific abuse suffered by the Osage nation at the hands of those who were entitled to nothing and thought themselves worthy of everything.

Baker cuts straight to the feeling – and because of his fearless filmmaking, this career-best film, in all its crushing and chaotic glory, demands to be felt.

The power of friendship is what keeps the heart of this film pumping fresh blood until the very end.

This film is intentionally exhausting because it wants you to feel the way Sissy feels as the special concludes: chewed up, spit out, used, abused, martyred for something you thought could love you back.

All in all, the movie is a complete blast, one that will satisfy hardcore fans of the franchise, new folks joining the fun for the first time, and those who are looking for the series to start turning in new directions.

Lorcan Finnegan’s smart survival thriller The Surfer sets a brutal, sun-soaked stage for star Nicolas Cage to do what he does best: go completely nuts.

Overall, the film is on point with its incredibly smart casting, and that victory aids in fully shaping the world Price Williams and Pinkerton concocted in their zany witch's cauldron.

V/H/S Halloween is a terrifyingly worthy addition to the ranks, excitedly and expertly bringing gorgeously gory and gratuitous fun to fans who love that stuff the most — and god are we grateful for it.

Sure, it’s an exaggerated and somewhat obvious film, but that doesn’t make director Coralie Fargeat’s point any less true – nor does it detract from the tremendously gory way in which she makes it.

May December is an intricate patchwork quilt of melodrama and stark reality woven into one big blanket of suppression.

Nothing short of a true-life triumph, All The Beauty and the Bloodshed is all at once the most important film about addicts, outcasts, and what makes each one—no matter their "sin" or the stigma—family. There is an understanding at the core of this documentary, one that says to the addicts and the ostracized alike, "I see you. I know you. I will not turn my back on you." The message is welcomed; In fact, it sounds like a new hymn.

The film, with its pulsating score and club-scape visuals, is only interested in showing its audience the truth about situations like the one that unfolds throughout the story — and Molly Manning Walker's first film feels like an expert, surefire debut as a result of the skill with which she (and the brilliant collaborators she surrounds herself with on and off-camera) elicits every subtle gut punch the movie has to offer. 

All in all, Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny is an action-packed, high-octane super soaker of a film, while at the same time amounting to a beautiful final conquest and farewell to the world's most famous adventurer.

A Real Pain is a hilarious and tender drama that shows us that truly living is the only way to honor those we've lost.

Ultimately, Blackhurst’s new film is an unmissable horror gem that heralds the arrival of both a fresh new horror voice and an electrifying new villain for the ages.

The new documentary is a colorful force of nature underscored by the fierce soundtrack of life, embodying the best parts of its subject in the name of nostalgic exploration. After all, music can tell beautiful stories, and this journey is no exception.

This is the best installment since the original, mainly because the film takes risks and bends conventions already set forth by the films that came before it. Scream was built on rules, but rules are always best when broken.

It never apologizes for what it is or what it wants to try and do, and that—along with the twists and turns of how the plot unfolds, as wild and nasty and unorthodox as it (and the performances that anchor it) can be—is worth the price of admission.

Oxygen and Laurent’s performance rely on how human nature manifests in us all: With a desire to live, no matter the cost. And none of what is achieved in this claustrophobic mystery would be possible without Laurent.

Richland is a unique and heart-wrenching portrait of a town willingly taken advantage of and is a necessary documentary in an age of nuclear unease.

The movie is an incessant interrogation of what our young people are becoming, what they want and what the rules are to get it, yet its humor and humility make it stand out as one of the better recent satires.